


bubblegum kush

by kirkspocks



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Bottoming from the Top, Established Relationship, M/M, Marijuana, Oral Sex, Praise Kink, Pseudo-Incest, References to Drugs, but like extremely mild
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-07
Updated: 2020-08-07
Packaged: 2021-03-06 05:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,443
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25757743
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kirkspocks/pseuds/kirkspocks
Summary: “Hey, hey,” Klaus calls from his seat on the couch. “You want any?”Klaus brings home a marijuana cigarette.
Relationships: Diego Hargreeves/Klaus Hargreeves
Comments: 11
Kudos: 183





	bubblegum kush

They get back from a family dinner and burst into Diego’s room in the back of the gym, sated and sleepy. Klaus shrugs his long coat off, lets it drop to the floor, and does the same with his jeans. Diego steps over the pile. Usually, he’d be annoyed by Klaus’ mess, but his head is spinning from cocktails and wine and suddenly it looks so enticing to just _not care_. He follows suit, kicks his shoes off and leaves them knocked over in two different directions. Unzips his jeans and stumbles out of them, a trail of clothes leading to the living space. Diego will pick it all up tomorrow morning.

Neither of them bother to turn the lights on, letting the amber-orange glow from the streetlamps outside do the work. Diego stumbles a bit in the dark and—now that he and Klaus are inside, standing in the quiet of the studio—he notices he’s a bit dizzy.

“I think I’m drunk,” Diego announces.

Klaus laughs. He’s fumbling with some sort of paper bag. “Since when are you a lightweight?”

“I told Allison to stop refilling my glass.” 

“You know, it’s very cruel and mean for you all to drink around me,” Klaus sniffs. He flops onto the couch and sprawls out like he owns the place. 

Diego leans over and presses a kiss to Klaus’ mop of curls, then says, only a little sarcastically, “You did a great job restraining yourself tonight.”

“Thank you.” Klaus tears open the paper bag and sticks his nose inside. 

Klaus has been “semi-sober” for about six months. Diego doesn’t know if “semi-sober” is a real thing, but whatever Klaus is doing, it’s working. He parcels out two drinks a week—drugs are completely out of the picture—and he’s stuck to it so far. Now that Diego thinks of it, it’s a little odd that Klaus didn’t opt to have his second drink of the week tonight, during family dinner. He stuck to drinking water, though he’d eyed the bottle of wine quite longingly.

Diego makes his way to the kitchenette. He splashes water on his face to wake himself up; wants to sober a little, stave off that dizziness. His mouth is dry with the sour aftertaste of red wine. He sticks his face near the sink faucet and takes a sip from the tap.

“Hey, hey,” Klaus calls from his seat on the couch. “You want any?”

After rubbing a dish towel over his face, Diego looks across the room to see Klaus holding something small and cylindrical. He squints. Judging by the devilish smile on Klaus’ face, Diego knows exactly what it is. 

Years ago, as teenagers hiding in some dark corner of the academy, Klaus had held up a hastily made, poorly rolled joint and asked the same question. Diego was too scared to try smoking pot, still repulsed by the smell. He had told Klaus he’d stand lookout, make sure no one was around to tattle. But instead of keeping his eyes on the hallway, he’d watched Klaus, fascinated, as he exhaled those first few puffs of smoke. Mr. Hargreeves caught Klaus almost immediately after he lit up. They didn’t see Klaus for several days after that.

“Seriously, Klaus? You’re doing so well. I literally just told you that.”

Klaus feigns a gasp. “Is this—a marijuana cigarette?! Oh, _no,_ Diego, that’s the gateway drug! One puff and I’ll start roaming the streets, searching for crack cocaine!”

“Yeah,” Diego says, widening his eyes. “That’s exactly what happened to you.”

“Well— No, it isn’t,” Klaus corrects. “I only started roaming the streets _after_ I tried cocaine.”

“Klaus.”

“Oh, come on! Weed’s not any worse than alcohol!”

“It’s a drug,” Diego insists.

“It’s a _joint.”_ Klaus holds the joint to his nose and inhales the scent obnoxiously. “It’s medicinal.”

They have a brief staring contest. When Diego doesn’t budge, Klaus throws his head back and groans. 

“Lighten up, Diego!” Klaus waves the joint around limply as he speaks. “You’re always so serious and boring. You need a hit more than I do. Just think of this as an equivalent to… a glass of wine, or cocktail, perhaps.” 

_“Perhaps?”_

“It’s kind of the same, I think.” Klaus rolls off the couch and slumps to the hardwood, then digs through the mail and magazines on Diego’s coffee table. When he doesn’t find what he’s looking for, he crawls around on the ground. “Where’s my lighter?”

Diego crosses his arms and frowns. He can admit that Klaus’ restraint has been admirable so far, but he still quietly prepares for the potential heartbreak of a very sudden disappearance. 

Although, maybe Klaus is right. So far he’s been able to drink a glass of wine and _not_ wind up at a some dark, sticky bar, taking shots until he’s blackout drunk. That was a big improvement. Maybe the same will be true for weed. Diego knows full well how much smoking relaxes Klaus, lets his mind get quiet. 

Diego watches Klaus, down to his tight t-shirt and neon underwear, scuttling across the floor. “You look insane right now.”

After a moment of searching, Klaus triumphantly holds up his little pink lighter, which had been hiding in his coat pocket. He tosses his coat back to the floor, like that’s where it belongs, and saunters to the couch. His bare knees are a little scuffed from all the crawling.

Klaus clicks the lighter a few times, but keeps his gaze on Diego. When Klaus bites his bottom lip, Diego knows that he’s teasing him. Klaus is so perceptive, and they both remember the tension that rose every time Klaus cooly smoked in the attic, perched on the windowsill. Diego would sit on the floor and pretend to sharpen his knives, though he was really just watching Klaus smoke. Klaus would stare blankly and longingly out at the skyline, swinging his leg.

At first, it was Klaus’ willful disobedience that was so alluring. The danger of it, the persistence; Klaus saying _I don’t care_ when Luther or Ben reminded him how bad smoking was on the lungs. His insistence on sneaking cigarettes and pot into the academy, despite being punished whenever he got caught.

But over the years he got better at sneaking contraband, and there were several occasions when no one ever noticed they’d both disappeared into the attic. A few times, Diego sat on the windowsill beside Klaus, and Klaus would lean close and ghost his lips against Diego’s, breathe a little smoke against his mouth. A few times he gave Diego a quick, gentle kiss. Then he’d turn away to look out the window, take another drag. Not saying a word, which was very unusual for Klaus. He always left Diego curious and wanting.

“I’ve been sober for six months!” Klaus exclaims, breaking Diego out of his reverie. He twirls the end of the joint, slowly lights it with the quivering flame. “This is just a little treat.”

“Technically, you haven’t been sober at all.”

“Technically, you’re being a narc bitch.”

Diego's lip twitches, but he doesn't want to give Klaus the satisfaction of making him laugh. “Hey.”

Klaus snickers and focuses on lighting the joint. Suddenly, the only light Diego sees is coming from the red-hot end of Klaus’ joint. As if he’s back in that creaking attic. The light from the joint burns into his eyes, a bright spot floating in his vision. Klaus touches the filter to his lips and inhales, slow and gentle. The smoke billows out of his mouth, rising to the ceiling lazily, and warmth spreads out slow in Diego’s chest. 

Drawn to the light, moth-like, Diego sits down next to Klaus and watches: the wet of his lips, the white curls of smoke, the softness of his eyelids as they flutter. Klaus is quiet and calm, and takes a few more slow drags. Then he tips his head back and moans softly, eyes closed, like he’s been aching for this. Diego aches, too, in a different way. 

A haze settles around them, heavy and pungent. The smoke has nowhere to escape, and it rises thick and slow. The joint rests between Klaus’ fingers as he takes a momentary break, eyes heavy-lidded and trained on Diego. Diego remembers this feeling all too well, that flutter deep in the stomach, and he sails through the settling smoke. His chaste kiss lands on Klaus’ jaw, because Klaus, grinning smugly, has turned his head to take another hit.

“Please,” Diego whispers, still leaning close, lips brushing Klaus’ jawline.

Klaus giggles. “So polite.”

Diego presses a kiss to Klaus’ neck, then another a bit lower. Klaus gently pushes Diego away, and Diego’s stomach drops low; his face floods hot-red with embarrassment at the mere intimation of rejection. A stuttering apology tumbles out of his mouth when Klaus smiles and holds up a finger, telling Diego to wait.

He licks his fingertips and pinches the end of the joint, which has barely had time to burn down. Diego sits wide-eyed, impressed and surprised that Klaus _chose_ not to finish it all in one sitting. Some progress, in the self-control sphere of things.

“There,” Klaus says. He presses the joint into the coffee table, making sure it’s out, and leans back against the arm of the couch. He stretches a bit, arches his back, then gestures grandly at his own body. “Okay. You may continue.”

“What?”

Klaus lets out an exasperated sigh. “I wanted to put the joint out before we continue our journey through the intense sexual tension that is _clearly_ building up.”

Diego wants to climb on top of Klaus and kiss him all over. He clams up instead. Stutters, “Yeah, but you… You’re high.”

Diego is keenly aware that they are both down to their t-shirts and underwear. When he glances down, he sees that Klaus is already half-hard, his cock pressing up against the tight spandex of his colorful briefs.

“Y-e-sss.” Klaus says it drawn-out and exaggerated, like he’s teaching a child how to read. “Good deduction, Diego! Have you ever considered becoming a detective?”

“God, shut up.” Diego crawls over to Klaus and hovers about him, their noses nearly touching. “I just mean, I really shouldn’t be rewarding you for smoking pot.”

“Oh, I don’t think _I’m_ the one getting the reward,” Klaus says. He takes the lead this time and presses a kiss to Diego’s lips. Open mouthed, tongues mingling. They break apart for a moment, and Klaus grins like an idiot and mumbles, “You’re rock hard.” He kisses the corner of Diego’s mouth, trails up his jaw and cheek, like he’s unable to stop himself. 

Diego’s ears get hot. He nods accusingly at Klaus’ underwear. “S-so are you.”

Klaus snorts and falls back against the arm of the couch. He snatches up the joint again and begins playing with the pink lighter. The flame appears and disappears with quick little clicks. 

“Well, yeah, duh. It’s Bubblegum Kush,” Klaus says, lighting up again. He sucks in the smoke and lazily breathes it out. When Diego just makes a face, he continues: “The strain, idiot. It makes me crazy fucking horny.”

“Oh, so it’s the weed, and not me?” Diego teases. “Maybe I should leave you and your preroll alone.”

“No, no, it isn’t just the weed. It’s a little of both.” Klaus eyes Diego up and down, which makes his dick twitch in interest. Klaus absolutely notices and snorts. But he doesn’t make a move, he just takes another hit. As Klaus exhales more smoke, he drawls, “Weed makes you feel all relaxed, and, and… loose. And it can have aphrodisiac properties. ” 

“Uh-huh.” Of course Diego knows this. Part of the reason he enjoyed their time in the attic so much was watching Klaus loosen up, smiling dopey and sweet, the pressure of the academy and the stress of his powers momentarily relieved.

The joint has steadily burned halfway down. Ash flutters onto the couch. Klaus tries to sweep it away but it just dirties the fabric with a black smudge. Diego says _What the fuck, Klaus, you’re fucking up the couch,_ but Klaus just talks over him. “Aph-ro-di-si-ac. That’s five syllables. Ha! Do you remember clapping? To count out syllables?”

God, Klaus is so high. His eyes are red-rimmed and he’s melting into the couch and now he’s rambling about Greek root words. Diego wants to be on top of him, inside him; wants to fuck Klaus while he smokes, lazy and and slow. Maybe Klaus would blow smoke in his face and tease him some more. Diego would like that.

“... Like the word _narcissist,_ that’s from that one pretty dude in the myths, _Narcissus_...” Klaus trails off, eyes trained on the smoke that’s rising to the ceiling. Diego tries to come up with a dig about Klaus being just like Narcissus, but he gets distracted by seeing him take another long, deep inhale from the joint.

Then, breathless, holding the smoke deep in his lungs, Klaus squeaks: “Open your mouth.”

Diego, sick of all the stalling and desperate for another kiss, does so without thinking. 

Except Klaus doesn’t kiss him. He shoots forwards and blows the weed smoke directly into Diego’s mouth. Diego inhales sharply, not knowing what else to do, and immediately regrets it. He sputters out a long, throaty cough. So much for wanting smoke blown in his face. There are tears in the corners of his eyes when he finally catches his breath, only to realize that Klaus has been in hysterics this whole time, laughing so hard that no noise comes out.

“Woo! Enjoy the buzz!” Klaus exclaims.

“What is _wrong_ with you? Why would you do that?” Diego tries and fails to suppress a wheeze. 

“Oh, you love it, you fucking pervert.” 

Diego hacks out another cough. Klaus is right, but he isn’t going to admit it, at least not yet. “How am _I_ the pervert?”

“Look at you! You’re practically drooling, watching me smoke. I mean, I get it. I’m very attractive, and scientifically, people appear thirty percent hotter when they smoke. If you’re this hard now you must’ve had absolute _ragers_ when I’d smoke with you back at the academy.” Klaus giggles and takes another toke. 

Diego, holding back a smile, spits out, “Fuck you.”

Klaus ashes the joint on the coffee table. “Oh, I’m sure you’d like to, Diego.”

Diego grins. He leans in close, catches Klaus off guard—for once—by kissing him, and this time, it’s Klaus who chases for more, is denied when Diego coolly sits back and says, “I would, actually.”

Diego is very proud of how smooth that was and thinks maybe now he’ll finally have the upper-hand, that he’ll get a turn to reduce Klaus into the anxious, aroused mess that he’d been since Klaus first lit up.

“Yeah?” Klaus whispers. He takes another short puff, exhales, and gets that kiss he wants by pressing his mouth to Diego’s plush lips. When he speaks, the last of the smoke trails from his mouth. “You wanna put your cock in my mouth?”

Diego immediately loses his cool. “I— uh. Y-yeah. Yes.”

Klaus flashes a smile and stubs out the joint on the coffee table. He flops onto his back unceremoniously, props his head against a stack of pillows, and opens his mouth. Diego stares and Klaus just lies there, waiting.

“What are you doing?”

“Don’t be a prude, Diego. We’ve done this before.”

“I’m not a prude.”

“Well, then, use your deductive reasoning skills and get going!”

They _had_ tried this position before, a few weeks ago. Klaus is notoriously proud of his lack of gag reflex—he’s brought it up in several inappropriate settings—and insisted on showing off his skill. Lying in bed, he’d made Diego climb on top of him, and then he’d guided his cock into his mouth, easily swallowing him down. Diego ended up blowing his load within five seconds. It had been a pleasant experience overall, but Klaus’ ebullient pride afterwards made Diego want to stab something. 

\- 

They’re both naked, the last of their clothing tossed to the growing pile on the floor. Diego is kneeling above Klaus, just like last time, with one knee on each side of Klaus’ head. Klaus impatiently laves his tongue over Diego’s the pink tip of Diego’s cock and is rewarded with a suppressed shiver.

“Fuck.” Diego was sure he’d be able to last longer this time. He doesn’t feel so confident now. He rocks his hips forwards and pushes his cock between Klaus’ parted lips, gets a few shallow thrusts in before going still and cursing.

Klaus knows he’s just trying to stave off his orgasm, so he takes control and bobs his head a few times, taking Diego into his mouth. He can’t swallow him down all the way, but it doesn’t matter; Diego doesn’t think he could handle that much stimulation, anyways. Klaus is clearly enjoying himself, sucking like he really wants it. Diego’s too close, can feel his orgasm coursing through him already—he didn’t realize he was this wound up, maybe it was all the red wine—so he gasps and pulls out. Curses some more. Fucking Klaus.

“Oh, my god, Diego,” Klaus says, his voice a little hoarse. “Relax.”

“I’m relaxed. I’m— I’m very relaxed.”

“Well, you don’t look like it. I mean, really, Diego, you fuck like such a _dude._ ”

His jaw drops. “What the hell does that mean?”

“You’re just—” Klaus giggles. “It’s like I’m watching straight porn. You’re trying to be all manly and stoic and silent.”

Diego scowls as he considers this. After a moment, he dismounts from his position above Klaus.

“Oh, no, Diego, I— I’m kidding!” Klaus crawls toward him, nearly sits in his lap. “You know I’m only kidding.”

“Shut up, Klaus.”

“Hey, no. I like it, okay? I do. It’s cute. But I really don’t care when you finish, you know. I’d rather not suck cock for hours. It’s hell on the jaw.” Diego is embarrassed so he stays silent. Klaus sweeps his thumb back and forth over Diego’s thigh and adds, “I just don’t want you to be so tense. It isn’t any fun when you hold yourself back.”

“I’m just— I’m—”

“Trying not to come?”

Diego grumbles. “I just feel like I’m losing control. Of myself.”

“Yeah. That’s okay. I don’t want you to worry about that. I like seeing you enjoy yourself,” Klaus says, breath hot on Diego’s ear. “Okay?”

Klaus had been stroking his thigh and talking so sweetly that Diego’s cock had regained interest, twitching against his own thigh. “Okay,” Diego says.

“Wonderful!” 

Klaus pats Diego’s cheek and smiles encouragingly. Something about that sends a thrill down his spine, but he doesn’t want to think particularly hard about it right now. Klaus stretches out on the couch and they return to their positions. Klaus mouths at the tip of Diego’s dick, flicking his tongue just under the head. Diego hisses and grabs at Klaus’ hair.

“Relax,” Klaus reminds him. “Or I’ll have to blow more smoke down your throat.”

Diego exhales slowly. “Is that a threat or a promise?”

“Oh, I _knew_ it, you fucking pervert.”

Klaus takes him back into his mouth and sucks. Diego makes an effort to stop thinking, to stop focusing on not coming, and lets his hips rock in a steady rhythm. Focuses on the warmth, the wetness. He moans unwittingly and leans forwards, forcing his weight on his hands, which are clawing into the couch’s armrest. 

He’s so entranced by the feeling and the sight of Klaus with his cock in his mouth that his mind finally begins to quiet. He closes his eyes and slowly drops his hips, taking time between each gentle thrust. He dips inside and pulls out, waits, then presses back in to repeat the process. 

Klaus pulls away and taps Diego’s thigh encouragingly. “There you go,” he says. “Very good.”

Heat curls deep in the pit of Diego’s stomach. “You don’t have to encourage me.”

“Hmm,” Klaus says. He presses his lips to Diego’s dick, strokes him slowly. “Really? I think you like it. You’re doing a very good job, Diego.”

Diego goes slack-jawed for a moment and Klaus opens wide, letting Diego dip his cock inside. He slides in and out of Klaus’ mouth several times over until he stops and gently tugs at Klaus’ hair. “Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize,” Klaus whispers. Fortunately he does not take this moment to gloat about being right, about Diego liking the praise. “That was good. Keep going.” 

Klaus swivels his tongue around the head and Diego pushes his cock back inside his mouth. He drives a bit deeper and Klaus takes it with ease, eyes fluttering shut. 

His testicles are dragging along Klaus’ chin and lower lip; Diego feels the prickle of stubble. He pulls out of Klaus’ mouth with a _pop_ and cants his hips upwards, just a bit, so Klaus can suck on his balls. He mouths and kisses there until Diego’s aching, until he can’t take it anymore. He groans and stuffs his cock back into the wet heat of Klaus’ pliant mouth.

Klaus must like that—Diego wordlessly taking what he needs—because he moans around his cock and reaches down between his legs to start jerking off. The slick sound of it ticks something inside of Diego, and Diego fully lets go, shallowly fucking Klaus’ mouth. 

“Oh, fuck,” Diego gasps. Klaus takes it so easy, and judging by the redness of his cheeks and the humming noise he’s making, he enjoys taking it, too. Diego runs his hand through Klaus’ hair, which makes Klaus moan in delight, and that sends a pleasant vibration around his cock. 

Diego groans, loud, thrusting in quick little movements. He lowers his hips one more time, allowing himself to fuck just a bit deeper and faster, because he’s so close, and he knows Klaus can take it. Klaus digs his nails into Diego’s hips. The sharp, slight bite of pain sends Diego trembling, and then he’s coming, right into Klaus’ mouth, against the slick of his tongue. Klaus pulls back to get some of it on his face. 

Diego whines, strokes his cock and rubs the tip against Klaus’ bottom lip. His come lands in pearly streaks on Klaus’ cupid’s bow; some of it sliding down his cheek. The sight kicks another wave of heat through him, and he moans and rubs his cock until just a little more come dribbles out. Diego figures coming on Klaus’ face can be payback for forcing weed smoke down his throat. Or, it would be, if Klaus didn’t seem to be enjoying it so much. He’s smiling and humming a laugh when Diego finishes.

“Yeah?” Diego asks, breathless. “What’s so funny?”

This question is even funnier to Klaus, but his pleased, drugged-out giggling turns into a moan when Diego reaches down and grips Klaus’ cock, tight the way he likes it, and roughly jerks him off. He begs Diego to pull his hair, please, pull it really hard, and when Diego yanks at his curls, Klaus comes with a gasp, curling in on himself, splattering onto the hollow cave of his stomach. 

-

They lie on top of each other in a heap, both uncomfortably sticky but not ready to move. Diego’s face is smashed into Klaus’ chest, and he must look ridiculous, still trying to catch his breath. Klaus finishes wiping off his face with a take-in napkin that was sitting on the coffee table. He crumples it and drops it to the floor.

“You better pick that up.”

“Oh, I’ll get it later.” Klaus groans and noses into Diego’s neck. “You’re heavy. You know, this was a really bad idea.”

Diego furrows his brow. He’s too tired to be insulted. “What? Why?”

“Dry mouth! Cotton mouth!”

“The hell are you talking about?”

“Weed gives you cotton mouth,” Klaus sighs. “And I just sucked your dick.”

“Do you want me to get you a glass of water?”

“ _Y_ _es,_ please, thank you,” Klaus says with melodramatic affect, like a parched debutante in the Southern heat. 

Diego rolls off of him. “Then just ask for it like a normal person, Jesus.”

As Diego adds ice cubes to a glass in the kitchenette, he hears the familiar sounds of the television turning on, a streaming service booting up. Klaus calls clicks around on the remote and calls from across the room: “Can we watch something?”

“What do you want to watch?” Diego asks when he returns, handing Klaus the icy glass. Klaus holds the glass with both hands, like a freak, and downs half the glass.

After an obnoxious exhale, Klaus says, “I don’t know. I’m really behind on everything. I wasn’t watching a lot of T.V. these past few years, you know.”

Diego wanders off to find some sweatpants while Klaus swipes through titles. He pauses the search through his dresser to open up the window by the bed, let some fresh air in. There’s the smell of wet pavement and cold night air, which intertwines rather nicely with the dissipating scent of weed inside. Diego listens to cars whizzing past, the bass from someone bumping music somewhere across the street. Happy shouting from the folks exiting the bar down the street. 

It’s nice to look outside, into the dark, and not worry about where Klaus is. 

Diego returns and presents Klaus with a pair of pajama pants, which he somehow manages to shuck on while staying glued to the couch. When Diego collapses beside him, Klaus pulls a blanket up over both of them. 

Diego steals Klaus’ water glass and finishes it. “I don’t want to watch a rom-com.”

“Well, I don’t want to watch fucking Faster and Furiouser, or whatever you like.”

When Diego turns to give Klaus a pointed and bewildered look, Klaus is somehow holding _another_ fresh joint that has apparently materialized from nowhere. Although this one is much smaller—half the size of the one Klaus has polished off—Diego stares, momentarily speechless. Klaus even has the balls to look a little guilty this time.

“ _More?_ Really?”

“No,” Klaus says. He proffers the joint to Diego. “This one’s for you.”

After a pause, Klaus flicks on the lighter and asks again. “You want?”

Diego grabs it by the filter and twirls it, carefully inspecting the little green flecks stuffed inside the paper. He figures he should take a page from Klaus’ book, and just _not care._ Klaus grins wildly.

Diego sighs and sticks the joint tip into his mouth. “Yeah, sure.”

**Author's Note:**

> i started this fic on 4/20/19, abandoned it, and finally returned to complete it when s2 arrived. i completely forgot that i'd written it on four-twenty until just now. quite a beautiful circle, as i'm also incredibly high as i type this. 
> 
> it's very nice to post again.
> 
> do people still care about tumblr? if so: [kirkspocks.tumblr.com](kirkspocks.tumblr.com)


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